


Lingering Nightmares

by MissLillyLovee



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, character death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:33:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLillyLovee/pseuds/MissLillyLovee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adamant took its toll everyone, especially those who'd gone into the fade. Though the Nightmare had taunted them all, almost teasing the group with each other's fear, it had dug deeper, as well. It continues to wear on Diana, who continues to see the death of her beloved Cullen in her sleep. Sometimes, she just needs a little bit of comfort to remind herself that she hasn't lost him yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lingering Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of my first attempt at properly writing a fic via Inquisition, since Diana is the first of my Inquisitors to give me much to work off of. Testing the waters, so to speak. (Brought over from my tumblr.)

_She could hear them fighting, but for a brief moment – though, in her mind, it was much longer – she couldn’t see them. Worse, she could hear him. But what was he doing here? He hadn’t followed them after Clarel. The Nightmare was too loud, taunting her. She couldn’t understand a word, but still his voice cut through her. Rough and gravely and so terribly broken. She could only see him in her peripheral, no matter how hard she tried to look at him._  
_But even her peripheral was enough. He was limping towards her, hand holding his side as though holding himself together. But the blood, oh Maker the blood. His armor shone bright with it, his face drained and pale, but he was fighting to get to her, making pleas that she couldn’t hear over the cackling of the Nightmare. **You’ve failed him, Trevelyan!** It was gleeful as her pain and fear welled up in her chest._  
_Fingers brushed her side, but even then she couldn’t look at him directly. She felt a hand grasping desperately at her own but she couldn’t reach him. His voice was getting louder, but the louder it got, the more desperate for help he sounded. If only she could hear him, see him, help him. And then suddenly, everything was silent. And on one, ragged breath, so obviously his last, he gasped his final word._  
_“Diana!”_  
Bolting upright, drenched in a cold sweat, Diana looked around, the Nightmare’s laughter ringing in her ears. Though they had defeated it, this memory still lingered, still haunted her. She groped in the darkness, but the bed was empty. Cullen had nightmares too, she knew, as he would often wake in the early hours of the morning and be unable to go back to sleep. She’d gotten used to waking up alone, because he would take to the ramparts, wanting to clear his head before the day began for the rest of Skyhold.  
But ever since Adamant, his absence only made the pit the dreams left in her stomach grow that much worse. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself fully, looking around her quarters. There was no longer any discretion where their relationship was involved. All of Skyhold knew they were together, so he’d taken to staying with her rather than the quarters above his office.  
So it was no surprise when her eyes found his armor, carefully set across her desk – she hadn’t gotten around to getting a stand for him in her room. The only things missing were his leathers that had been perched behind the rest. That comforted her, if only vaguely, and told her that he was probably walking the ramparts as usual. Slowly, she stumbled out of bed and towards the desk.  
Her fingers found the lion’s mane mantle, and she picked it up, swinging it over her shoulders. The mantle was far too big for her, but she didn’t mind in the least. She just needed to escape. Despite the comfort she found in the idea that he was alright, his voice wouldn’t leave her mind. Broken. Pleading. That last dying gasp of her name sent chills down her spine.  
She stumbled to the stairs, and down to the main hall, still disoriented, to curl up in the Fereldan throne, wrapped in his mantle and shivering faintly. Though she’d long since gotten used to the chill of Skyhold, the inability to shake the nightmares chilled her. She buried her face in the fur. It had a strange, unique scent to it on its own, mingling with Cullen’s scent, and she tried to find solace in that. She wasn’t sure when the tears started, but soon they stained her cheeks and she didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. Every night the nightmare haunted her, but she thought she was getting stronger. She’d fight it and push past it and could collect herself. Tonight was different.  
It had felt more real than ever before. Normally, it simply strengthened her resolve to do everything she could to protect him. He was the Commander of her armies and he knew the risks that meant, and she knew he was strong enough to take care of himself, but she couldn’t lose him. So she would protect him. But tonight, it shook her.  
Gentle footsteps alarmed her of company, but she didn’t look up. They paused briefly at the base of the stairs up to the throne. It wasn’t until they started up the stairs that she realized who it was. His footfalls were surprisingly quiet when he didn’t have all his armor on. Still, she didn’t look up. She couldn’t look at him with her eyes red from crying, cheeks tearstained.  
It didn’t dissuade him, though. She felt his arms, carefully slipping beneath her to scoop her up out of the throne. She shifted, lifting her face from the mantle to press against his bare shoulder instead. He turned, sitting down in the throne with her curling up in his lap.  
“You too, huh?” He whispered. He was answered only with a small smile he could feel against his skin, and a soft, hiccup-y little sob.  
“It’s okay. I’m here.”


End file.
